


To Get Out

by wittykitsune



Series: Kit's HSWC Writings [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittykitsune/pseuds/wittykitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something written for BR4 of HSWC 2013.</p>
<p>Based on a playlist given as a prompt:</p>
<p>'Born to Run' by Bruce Springsteen<br/>'Boys Don't Cry' by The Cure<br/>'After All' by Dar Williams</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Get Out

The two of you had dreams, dreams you wanted to hold on to to keep you going. You had aspirations and all of them were to get out of this fucking town and away from the same mundane day after day struggle to make ends meet in the city. Night was when it really came alive and the parties sometimes made it worth it. Sometimes. 

You didn't regret meeting one Dirk Strider at one said informal gathering in a parking lot with the streetlights supplemented with car headlights and the lights of the motorcycles. His had been the brightest. 

The two of you got to talking and hit it off pretty fast. You couldn't help noticing the way he brushed off the compliments on his bike's custom jobs. You couldn't help noticing the way he held himself or the helpful but guarded tone he took with others. You talk to him next time he's stepped away from the crowd and you learn he's one of the members of that group that race. The bike's not all show. 

You go to his next race out at an old abandoned track near a park with rusting monkey bars and a graffiti covered slide. You watch the way he mounts his bike and revs the engines and you just feel your heart race. You forget about your job waiting tables and doing dishes and mopping out the bathroom. You forget about the tension in your home life with your brother's arrogance and your father's worry. Your older sister hanging around a guy you think has pulled her into some weird cult and after the rough break up with his younger brother you're more than convinced. 

But you aren't here for a new pale partner. Watching Dirk ride not even sitting fully on the seat and easily passing the competition is exhilarating. Your brother will tell you he's dangerous. You'll tell him you don't care. The danger seemed worth it when he smiles when you shyly congratulate him and tell him he doesn't suck at racing. He says he likes your outfit and the two of you buy each other drinks until he's laughing and say he's tapped. You tell him with as much as you've had they could tap you and get drunk off a sip of what comes out. You both flush when you realize what you said. Then you laugh some more.

The more you're around him the more you realize while he's happy to show you his better moods and even some of the bad he's holding off on showing you his lowest lows. The fights you have are brutal and you tear each other to the core as your strip away your masks and he finds you tender under all your rage. He can get very cold during those times and you can see it under the surface, the sadness he's keeps away from you hiding it under stoic moments or sarcastic laughs. When things get really nasty you're the only one that ever cries and you sometimes wonder if he's doing it on purpose because he can't. The idea makes you want to slap those fucking shades off his face. So you do. 

You don't speak for weeks and the pain gets to you but like every other time you wouldn't have it any other way. Actually having cared about this asshole made you feel alive. Every break up makes you drop down into that point that you almost consider ending it all but then you think you want to live to feel it again. But it turns out he didn't want to break up and the first time you get to see his eyes you're seeing the tears. He was scared of you. You knew him far too well. 

He takes you to the outskirts of town and the two of you pick up talking about getting away as if you had never fought. But you did fight and you'd fight again but you didn't think that would be so bad. Fighting meant you were alive and gave enough of a damn to argue with each other. No false happiness. No taking each other's crap. You wouldn't have it any other way. Dirk Strider showed you his tears and you kept yourself from doing something stupid and lived to see them. Now you want to live to see the day the two of you could ride away from this city and never look back.


End file.
